


Peace Through Domination

by Timid_Timbuktu



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, Light Bondage, M/M, M/M/M, PWP, Smut, Threesome, here are my kinks, hurt comfort, kinky toys, let me show them to you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-10
Updated: 2013-03-10
Packaged: 2017-12-04 20:16:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/714644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Timid_Timbuktu/pseuds/Timid_Timbuktu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeremy captures Miles before he can escape to Georgia and delivers him to Bass, so they can teach him a lesson in humility.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peace Through Domination

**Author's Note:**

  * For [3988Akasha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/3988Akasha/gifts), [ElDiablito_SF](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElDiablito_SF/gifts), [Dragomir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragomir/gifts).



> Well, here it is. I'm popping my gay threesome cherry, and a few other cherries too. This is for Akasha, El and Drago, since they are the usual suspects in this OT3...it is obviously for them.
> 
> DUBIOUS CONSENT, but I didn't quite feel the need for the rape/non-con warning. If anyone disagrees, let me know and I'll change it.

After a week in the light depravation of solitary, Miles only sees bright and burning when the blindfold is removed. It takes seconds for amorphous blobs to form and many more for those blobs to solidify into the two people he already expects them to be.

He wants to be strong enough, hard enough inside his heart, to stare down those blue eyes with the same raging intensity that is radiating from them, but he can’t. He deserves Bass’ rage, not the other way around. If only Bass knew what he looks like right now, cold and strong in a way Miles has never seen before. He is all fury and hurt, with the ever-present need underneath.

It is the need that makes Miles look away because Bass probably doesn’t even know that it is still there.

Jeremy just looks smug. Big fucking surprise. He was the one who caught Miles in the first place right before Miles managed to escape into Georgia.

Miles takes a deep breath and puts on the façade he has grown accustomed to wearing, “Well, you caught me, President Monroe, now what are you going to do with me?”

Bass’ eyelids draw together slightly at the formal greeting, but he’s gotten noticeably better at hiding his emotions. The rest of his face stays perfectly still.

“Nothing you won’t enjoy.”

Bass pours himself two fingers of whiskey, downing it in one gulp and then refills his glass.

“Be careful, Monroe. You were never as good at holding your liquor as I was.”

“Monroe? Well, _Matheson,_ a lot can change in five years.”

“And some things never change at all.”

Miles doesn’t really know what he means, but it sounds snarky and he knows it will rub Bass the wrong way, so he lets the words flow.

Bass saunters toward him, bending down so that he is eye level with Miles, who is on his knees, hands tied behind his back…of course. Bass waves the whiskey under Miles’ nose. It smells like Johnnie Walker Green Label, smoky and delicious. Miles leans toward it instinctively, causing Bass to chuckle darkly.

“Glad to see you are still faithful to your first love even if you aren’t faithful to your second,” Bass says.

Miles smiles in spite of himself, “I’ll never give up on Johnnie. He’ll never be nothing to me.”

He probably should expect the punch to his left cheek, but it still hurts. Bass can hit like a son of a bitch when his heart is in it.

Bass steps back, regaining his composure, “Hopefully you won’t mind if Jeremy and I test that statement. You see we have a bet. Jeremy thinks you were lying when you claimed that I am nothing to you and I don’t.”

“I don’t suppose I have any say in this test.”

Bass smiles, but there is no joy on his face, and waves his hand at Jeremy, who walks toward the desk in the president’s office. Bass makes himself comfortable in a leather chair a few feet from Miles as Jeremy returns, producing one of their old toys from behind his back.

Miles’ balls twitch when he sees it.

Jeremy’s ring gag. 

Miles isn’t overly displeased by the direction this test is going. He had suspected normal torture methods, so this type of torture is a happy surprise.

Jeremy cocks his head like the self-satisfied little dick that he is, “I always wondered what my gag would look like in your mouth, but no, you’re Miles. You always have to be in charge, don’t you?”

“Being in charge isn’t about being on top, Jeremy,” Miles is pleased that his voice doesn’t give away his mounting desire, “You can put that gag in my mouth and face fuck me, but I’ll still be in charge. I’ll still own you.”

Miles glances briefly at Bass, who licks his lips before taking a sip of whiskey. He pulls a shiny silver gun from the table beside him, his favorite gun, and points it at Miles.

“Jeremy is going to untie you momentarily in order to help you out of those pesky clothes. Let’s not have an incident, okay, Miles?”

It is all bravado. Bass wouldn’t shoot him even if he did take his temporary release as an opportunity to fight back. Luckily for Bass, Miles has no intention of fighting back. He is curious to see where this is going.

He stares Bass down as Jeremy strips him efficiently, reveling in the slight pinking of Bass’ cheeks when Miles’ semi-erect cock emerges. Bass’ eyes grow dark with lust as Jeremy forces Miles back onto his knees and ties his hands in the front of his body. He circles Miles a few times, lithe and deadly, finger trailing across Miles’ chest and neck before stopping behind him.

“You take your eyes off of the president, and I will whip you,” Jeremy whispers, his breath deliciously hot against Miles’ ear right before he leans forward and suckles the sensitive flesh of Miles’ neck.

Miles breathes out, but refuses to moan this early in the game. It is obvious that Jeremy and Bass see this as some kind of punishment, so it is probably best to play along.

It becomes difficult not to close his eyes as Jeremy’s mouth finds the sensitive spot on the back of his neck, the spot that sends an electric jolt down his spine all the way to his tight asshole. His eyes are lidded and he is panting like a common whore, but he manages to keep his eyes on Bass who is smirking and sipping on his whiskey.

Miles could really use some whiskey right now. He hasn’t had a taste of whiskey in over two weeks.

Jeremy stops his assault with his tongue and Miles is grateful, feeling like he can breathe again, only to be proven wrong when Jeremy’s calloused fingers wrap around Miles’ cock from behind and stroke it.

Miles tilts his head back, moaning and closing his eyes.

“Hmm,” Bass hums, “He isn’t looking at me, Jeremy.”

The president’s soft, gravelly voice filters through Miles desire-addled brain and he opens his eyes wide, looking straight at Bass, but he can tell it is too late.

The corner of Bass’ mouth tilts up as he delicately places his glass of whiskey on the table and picks up a leather riding crop that was propped against the chair. He rises smoothly, like a cat, and hands the crop to Jeremy.

He squats in front of Miles, blue eyes intense and smug and says, “It is his first infraction, so let’s go with three, Jeremy.”

Miles stares into those eyes, strong and ready. He doesn’t flinch for any of the three blows that Jeremy unleashes on his ass cheeks, although the blows aren’t brutal, they teeter between pleasure and pain. This is still part of the game to Bass and Jeremy. He has yet to receive any real punishment, although he probably deserves it.

Bass swipes his thumb along the seam of Miles’ lips, pushing it into his mouth, “Suck it, you whore.”

Miles does without thinking, his own cock throbbing as he swirls his tongue around Bass’ thumb. He does it for the reaction he knows he’ll receive, pleased when Bass’ lips part and he begins to pant quietly.

“Time to really use that beautiful mouth of yours, Miles.”

Bass looks up at Jeremy, who is still standing behind Miles, and nods slightly. Miles tries not to panic when Jeremy shoves the huge metal ring of the gag into his mouth, wrapping the leather straps across his cheeks and tying it behind his head. It is slightly too big for his lips, stretching them painfully.

Bass smiles, “Oh, baby, don’t look so scared. We aren’t going to hurt you. We are just going to use you like you used us.”

Bass leans forward, shoving his tongue into Miles’ open mouth, exploring every nook and cranny as Jeremy pushes his head forward from behind. He is trapped and desperate with need, all fear washed away. He knows that this is but a prelude to what is coming, but his stomach stills drops with desire when Bass pulls back and unbuttons his pants. He strokes his hard cock a few times before placing the tip at the opening of Miles’ mouth. Miles takes a deep breath in preparation, but Bass pauses, his fingers lightly touching Miles’ cheek.

“I want your eyes on me, Miles. I want to see how much you need this.”

Miles turns his dark eyes up to meet Bass’ blue ones as Bass slides his cock through the ring and into Miles’ mouth. Miles opens his throats and relaxes, believing that he can do this. He can swallow a cock just as well as Bass and Jeremy, he tells himself, even though he was never overly good at it before. Bass’ dick hits his soft palette and Miles gags, thinking that Bass will pull back. He always did in the past, but Bass keeps pushing forward. Panic fills Miles again and he tries to flee backward, only to feel Jeremy’s firm hands on the back of his head holding him in place.

He cries out around the cock in his throat, eyes wide and watering, but Bass doesn’t stop. He buries himself to the hilt before pulling completely out and letting Miles catch his breath. Miles bends over, breathing hard, amazed at how uncomfortable and delicious that cock felt down his throat. How many times had he tied this ring gag around Jeremy’s head and throat-fucked him? Dozens? Hundreds? But he never really appreciated the skill and focus Jeremy needed to endure this torment. When Bass pulls his head back up and shoves his cock back into Miles’ mouth, he realizes that he is about to learn, firsthand, what it takes to be the omega.

And he accepts it, for now, because he has it coming. He deserves this. Bass and Jeremy should punish him, and it is a fitting punishment for his crimes.

But he will pay them back for this later.

Bass picks up his pace, dropping his hands to his side, allowing Jeremy to hold Miles' head in place as he furiously fucks Miles’ mouth. Miles eyes water and saliva drips down his chin. He is groaning, with both pain and desire.

“You beautiful little cock slut,” Bass murmurs, forcing his cock all of the way in and keeping it there. Miles tries to relax his throat and remain calm. He remembers pulling this trick on them, loving the way Jeremy’s and Bass’ throats convulsed around his dick. But Bass’ cock is down his throat for too long and his vision starts to get fuzzy. He needs to breathe. He starts to struggle, just enough that Bass must sense his true panic. He pulls completely out and steps away. Miles keels over, breathing in ragged gasps. He really wants to close his mouth, but he knows it won’t do any good to ask them to remove the gag. Although how he would ask them to remove it, he doesn’t know. How does one talk without words? He could probably stand up and kick them. That would certainly get his point across, but he knows it wouldn’t inspire them to remove the gag. He would just end up with a pinker ass.

Through the haze of catching his breath, he feels Bass walk away from him, toward the desk, and he forces himself to sit up. All of the blood in his body drains into his dick when he sees the object that Bass pulls from the desk drawer. He doesn’t even notice the ring in his mouth anymore.

Bass’ leather collar.

Memories snap into his brain, unbidden and completely welcome:

Leather collar around Bass’ neck as he sinks to his knees and passionately sucks Miles’ dick into his wet mouth. 

Bass’ hard, sculpted body shuddering with desire as Miles rides him from behind, using the collar’s metal chain to pull his head back for a sloppy kiss.

Something aches inside Miles when he realizes that he is going to wear that collar for the first time. It doesn’t seem quite right. It belongs to Bass…it belongs around Bass.

Bass wraps it around Miles’ neck as Jeremy holds him in place and clasps it shut like a belt, “What did you always used to say, Miles? Oh yeah. ‘Is that loose enough, baby?’”

He says it with dripping condescension, but he still runs two fingers between the collar and Miles’ neck to make sure that isn’t too tight. Miles is grateful, deciding to appreciate the little things.

“Make him ready, Jeremy,” Bass says as he undresses, “I’m going to remind you of what a little whore you are. I’m going to fuck you until you can’t stand, because you belong to us, Miles.”

Jeremy’s lubed fingers slide into Miles’ ass and he groans. He still wishes he could close his mouth…or speak. His throat is drying up and his tongue feels weird. But he subjected Jeremy to this treatment often, so he knows why the ring gag is still in place. He knows what is coming. They aren’t finished with his mouth yet.

Before long he is pushing back against Jeremy’s fingers, writhing and moaning like the slut that Bass’ accused him of being. It isn’t enough. He needs a cock, Bass’ cock. Jeremy might be the one to prepare him, but only Bass’s dick would ever fill him and use him. Bass has always been possessive of Miles’ ass. Jeremy’s cock isn’t allowed anywhere near it.

Bass leans down to kiss Miles through the gag one final time and then unties his hands.

“It’s time to ride you like the fucking dog you are,” he hisses, his eyes dark and hungry. 

He trades places with Jeremy and pushes Miles onto his hands and knees. He rubs the head of his cock along Miles’ gaping and willing hole. All Miles can think about is that deliciously hot cock filling him. He needs it now, hard and fast. He pushes back against Bass’ cock trying to force him to shove it in.

Bass runs his hands down Miles’ back instead, grabbing the metal chain attached to the collar, “Do you want my dick in your ass, _Matheson_?”

His voice is hard and cruel again and Miles moans once. They are back to playing that game again.

“Do you need me to fuck you like a whore, _Matheson_?” 

Miles tries to say “yes” but it comes out as a breathy groan. He hopes that the old standard rule applies here: one tortured groan means yes and two tortured groans means no. He wants Bass to understand.

“Even though I mean nothing to you?”

Miles pushes back against Bass and tries to say, “I lied.”

But the words are unintelligible. He needs this fucking gag out of his mouth, just for a few seconds so he call tell Bass how much he means to him, assure him that he was lying. He didn’t know what to do or what to say when they stood, guns raised in that hallway, but he knew he couldn’t accept Bass’ offer. And he was still so angry about Rachel and Danny and Ben. He clung to that anger and let it take over, let it be his strength so he wouldn’t fall back in line, beside Sebastian. 

The minute the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them, especially looking into those broken tear-lined eyes. But he couldn’t take them back even though he’d wanted to, because Ben’s family needed him…his family now.

Bass pushes into him without care or gentleness and Miles moans and drops his head. But Bass is his family too and he missed him everyday. He missed being filled and stretched by Bass, so close that their bodies become one.

Miles forgets about the gag, the collar, Jeremy, his family by blood and loses himself in Bass. Perhaps his only real family ever, no matter how much he wanted to do right by Ben’s family after his death.

He is a ball of coiling, moaning, shuddering need, barely aware of Bass’ string of insulting words, “Look at how pathetic you are now. If only that precious niece could see how you moan for me. If only that bitch Nora knew how much you’ve craved me all along. It is only me and you know it, you fucking bitch.”

Miles just groans in response. Even without the gag, he is beyond words. 

He’s forgotten about Jeremy until Bass grabs hold of the metal chain attached to the collar and pulls Miles’ head up.

“Suck him, Miles. Take all of him into that gorgeous lying throat,” Bass says, as if Miles has a choice. 

Jeremy’s hard, and thankfully slightly smaller, cock is down his throat before Miles can think, pounding his mouth. Jeremy’s hands are grasping his hair pulling him forward. He is trapped, nothing but a body for Bass and Jeremy to use. He is just two hot holes, a mouth and an ass, for them to abuse, and it makes him shudder with absolute need and hunger. He is beyond desire.

“Your mouth is so goddamn amazing, Miles,” Jeremy’s eyes are blown with lust as he watches Miles choke on his cock, “Especially when it can’t lie because it is too filled with dick.”

They find a rhythm, Bass riding his ass furiously hard, forcing Jeremy’s cock deeper into his throat. He is shivering and aching. There is nothing in the world besides his need to come, but Bass doesn’t even touch his cock, not once. Miles reaches back to take matters into his own hands, but Bass pulls roughly on the collar and slaps his ass cheeks in response.

“You even think about touching your cock and I will beat you until you are a bloody mess.”

This is about Jeremy and Bass, this is about their need to teach Miles a lesson. Miles puts his hand back on the ground and accepts his punishment. They ride him for minutes, grunting and rutting like wild beasts. It feels like an eternity. Miles’ throat and ass are raw and worn. He both hopes that it will end and he wants it to continue forever.

Jeremy comes first, holding Miles' head and forcing him to swallow his seed.

Then it is just Miles and Bass, as it should be, the only two who were there at the beginning, the only two who will still be there at the end.

Jeremy steps back and watches as Bass releases his hold on the chain and allows Miles to drop his head to the ground.

Bass is harder and rougher than Miles has ever known him to be, free to completely use Miles now that Jeremy is finished, now that it is just the two of them.

“Take it, you fucking asshole,” Bass is hissing, rage and desire mixing, “Nothing to you? Am I fucking nothing to you now? You fucking dirty bitch.”

Miles has the presence of mind to reach back and pull the ring gag off before Jeremy or Bass can stop him. It feels amazing to close his mouth and lick his chapped lips.

“Do I feel like nothing when I’m stretching you, making you moan like the whore you are?”

“Fuck me, Bass. Please, just fuck me.”

Bass grabs the collar’s chain again and pulls Miles head back up.

“But I’m just nothing to you. Nothing.”

“I lied,” Miles gasps, “I’m sorry, Bass, I lied.”

Bass buries himself completely upon hearing those words and groans deliciously as his hot come fills Miles’ ass.

He collapses onto Miles’ back and slowly removes his softening cock. Miles can feel the come dripping slowly out of his used hole. His cock is still hard. He is still completely filled with need, but Jeremy and Bass are lost in the post-coital bliss. Miles slowly, unobtrusively undoes the clasp from the collar and removes it. Neither of his companions notice or care as he rises to his feet. The table is only a few steps away. Before Miles can second-guess his decision, he lunges for the gun on the table. He can hear Jeremy and Bass as they begin to react, but it is too late. Miles whirls toward them, gun raised and ready. They both halt, eyes wide with worry and raise their arms.

“Miles?”

“Shut up, Bass. Jeremy, grab that rope and come over here.”

He does as he’s told and ties the rope around one wrist and then the other as Miles instructs him to do. Bass is looking toward the desk, his eyes calculating.

“Don’t even think about it, Bass. You can’t make it to the gun in your drawer, so don’t even try.”

Miles cautiously places the gun on the table beside him and pushes Jeremy to the ground, so he can hogtie him. He keeps an eye on Bass, who is still fidgeting and obviously trying to come up with a plan.

Everything is going as Miles wants, until Jeremy kicks out and tries to free himself. Miles pushes him down, temporarily distracted from Bass. He is wrestling Jeremy to the ground, finally securing his bound feet to his bound hands when the cold metal of the gun barrel pushes into the back of his head.

He rises slowly, turning around to look at Bass, now that Jeremy is tied down and contained.

Bass is smirking, holding the gun lazily.

“How do you think this is going to go, Bass? You are not going to shoot me, and I’m not going to let you get away with this. You and Jeremy had your fun. Now it’s my turn. You can’t stop that.”

“Really?”

Miles raises his eyebrow and then winks, causing Bass to flush noticeably. Bass is playing a new game, one that Miles knows well.

Miles swings his hand up and grabs the gun easily, mostly because Bass lets him. He clicks on the safety and throws it onto the leather chair.

“Now what, Bass?”

“Catch me,” Bass whispers before pushing Miles as hard as he can and darting out of the room. 

Miles falls to the ground beside Jeremy, who has a few choice words for him, “Untie me, you fucking asshole.”

Miles pats him on the head and rises to his feet, “I have a better idea. You lay here and think about what you just did to me and about how I am going to punish you for it later. I have unfinished business with Bass.”

He grabs the leather collar off of the ground before cautiously stalking into the hallway and heading toward the bedroom. That is where he expects Bass to go. He is peering around the door into the bedroom, when Bass collides with him from behind propelling him through the door and onto the ground. They roll a few times, pulling and grabbing, but not punching. This isn’t a fight, Miles realizes, this is foreplay.

Finally Miles manages to overpower him, pushing him into the ground with his body, holding his hands down beside his body. They are both breathing from the exertion. Bass has a small smile on his face as he leers at Miles. Bass used to love to grapple before sex, but there is a wicked glint to his eyes that didn’t used to be there.

“Hmm, so Miles Matheson doesn’t enjoy being humiliated? He doesn’t enjoy being treated as anything less than the alpha? How does it feel to be treated like an unimportant piece of meat rather than the all-mighty saint Miles?”

“I’ve never been a saint.”

“No,” Bass replies, growing serious, “But you sure as hell tried to play one for that niece of yours, didn’t you?”

Something darkens in Miles’ mind. He knows why Bass says it, a part of him actually agrees, but he doesn’t appreciate Bass speaking ill of Charlie.

“Don’t talk about her. This isn’t about her, this is about you and me.”

“Ah, but there is no ‘you and me,’ Miles. I’m nothing to you.”

Miles leans forward and licks Bass’ lips slowly and seductively, “I told you that that was a lie. I know you heard me. I’m sorry about everything I said to you, Bass, but I’m going to make it up to you.”

“Really?” Bass’ cock is growing hard again under Miles’ body, “For five years, all you’ve done is proven that I’m nothing to you. You proved _that_ long before you came back into my life and said it. So, how the fuck do you plan to convince me otherwise?”

When Miles left Jeremy tied up in the office and chased after Bass, he had planned to exact retribution on him, show him who was in charge. He planned to be rough and unyielding. He planned to punish Bass for everything he had just said and done. But that isn’t what Bass needs right now. He needs his best friend, the man who loved him when he felt all alone in the world.

Miles kisses him lightly and lovingly on the lips, the cheek, the neck, “Slowly. I’ll prove it to you slowly, because I’m staying.”

Bass’ eyes fill with longing and worry, “Don’t lie to me again, not about this Miles.”

Miles kisses him once more before pulling back and grabbing the collar off of the ground. He carefully wraps it around Bass’ neck, clasping it and checking that it isn’t too tight. Bass’ eyes grow wide with lust.

“Did you let Jeremy put this on you while I was away?”

“Of course not,” Bass whispers, voice filled with emotion and longing, “I don’t belong to Jeremy.”

Miles’ cock jumps at the words.

“Did you fuck him?”

Bass pauses for a few seconds, choosing his words, “Did you expect us to be nuns for the past five years?”

Miles didn’t expect that, but jealousy still boils in his gut.

“Just Jeremy?”

“Of course, Miles.”

“If you ever dare to fuck him again without me, you’ll pay dearly and not in a good way. Do you understand me, Sebastian?”

Bass swallows audibly, his cock fully erect and ready again, “Yes.”

Miles stands, gently pulling Bass to his feet and leading him toward the bed. The hook is still on the wall above the bed, amazingly, after five years. Miles pushes Bass onto the mattress and connects the opposite end of the collar’s chain to the hook in the wall, as Bass rests his head against the pillows and smiles at Miles, hope replacing the previous anger.

Miles leans over him and touches him like he is precious and fragile, planting kisses into every piece of flesh, slowly stroking his cock back into fully erect.

“I love you, Bass.”

“Really?”

It isn’t the response that Miles expects since he always used to say _I love you too_ in return. Miles knew that rebuilding the trust would be an uphill battle, but now, he truly understands.

There is lube in the bedside table, of course, and Miles uses it to gingerly stretch Bass’ hole, kissing his sculpted abs and murmuring loving words the entire time. It is the complete opposite of the angry vengeful rutting Miles has just endured. That was what Miles needed, to be punished. 

This is what Bass needs, to be loved.

By the time Miles enters him slowly, he feels so wound up with need he can barely maintain his tenuous control. He rides Bass slowly as he gazes up at him with those beautiful blue eyes. Miles caresses the leather collar and begins to fuck him in earnest. He won’t last long after the pounding that Jeremy and Bass made him endure. He is pumping Bass’ cock in rhythm to the fucking, still telling Bass how beautiful he is, how much he loves him, that he is never going to leave him again.

Bass shudders and spills his seed across his stomach, though there isn’t much left after his previous orgasm. Miles follows him a few minutes after with a guttural cry. It is the first time he has come inside a man he loves in five years and the feelings are so overwhelming, tears bloom in his eyes. Nothing can compare to seeing Bass under him, feeling Bass wrapped around him. How could he have ever left this? He doesn’t know. He just knows that he will never leave him again.

He pulls out and wraps his arms around Bass, “I love you.”

“I know,” Bass says. It still isn’t the reply that Miles wants, but it is progress from _Really?_

They lay together for minutes in silence, perfectly content. Miles can feel sleep beginning to cover him, when Bass startles him back into wakefulness, “You have to untie Jeremy.”

Jeremy.

Miles loves him too, but he’s completely forgotten in the bliss of finally having his body wrapped around Bass again. He feels slightly guilty and chuckles, “I’ll be right back.”

Jeremy isn’t overly pleased to see him when he bends over his prone, struggling figure, “You fucking jerk.”

“Love you too, Jeremy.”

“Did you hurt him?”

It isn’t what Miles expects Jeremy to say. Apparently, both he and Bass have grown in ways that Miles never anticipated, ways that make Miles feel like the bad guy in this entire scenario, even though Bass and Jeremy have their fair share of the blame.

He unties Jeremy silently, returning his intense gaze.

“Well, did you?”

“No,” Miles replies, shocked that Jeremy cares so much about Bass, that he has no snarky comments about being hogtied, only concern for the president. It shouldn’t surprise him though. Jeremy had to endure the past five years while Miles hid out in a bar and tried to drink himself to death, “And I won’t hurt him again.”

Jeremy sneers as he begins to dress himself, “Sure.”

“I mean it.”

Jeremy simply glares at him and pulls on his undershirt.

“Thank you, Jeremy, for, well …taking care of him.”

That stops Jeremy. He stares thoughtfully for a few moments, “If you run again, Miles, I promise I will hunt you down and kill you the next time.”

“If I run again, I give you permission to kill me.”

He watches Jeremy lace up his shoes, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Miles, right?”

“Yeah.”

He listens as Jeremy’s footsteps recede down the stairs, then he pours himself a glass of whiskey and wanders down the familiar hallways back to Bass’ bedroom.

Bass is still lying on the pillows, the collar still around his neck. Miles’ cock twitches again at the sight. Bass grins and nods toward the drink in Miles’ hand, “I see you are reunited with your first love.”

“I love you more than I love whiskey, you fool,” Miles responds, setting the glass down and sitting next to Bass. He touches the collar lightly before removing it and setting in on the bedside table.

“Was that too weird, wearing my collar?” Bass asks. It was his collar, for years. No one else had ever worn it, not even Miles.

Miles takes a long swig of whiskey and thinks about the question, “No, it felt right actually, because I belong to you too, Bass, and you needed to remind me.”

Bass looks grave and softly run his fingers along Miles’ forearm, “Are you going to be here when I wake up tomorrow?”

Miles furrows his brows in alarm, “Of course.”

“Really? Of course? Miles, Jeremy kidnapped you and your family is still out there.”

The fact that Bass doesn’t have any malice or jealousy in his voice when he mentions the rest of the Mathesons makes Miles’ heart beat faster.

“You’re my family too,” he says, setting the whiskey on the table and running his fingers through Bass’ soft curls, “They are my blood and tomorrow we are going to have a serious talk about the fact that you have a bounty on their heads.”

“Miles, I’m not going to keep trying to kill your family. I was angry and—“

“Shh,” Miles rests a finger on Bass’ lips, “Let me finish. They are my family by blood and I love them and I will protect them with my life, but you are the family I choose. I love you and I’ll protect you with my life too.”

Bass smiles and bites his lip, “That’s sweet, Miles, but all I really want right now is for you to be here when I wake up in the morning.”

Miles pulls the covers over their bodies, wrapping his arms and legs around his lover. Bass smells the same, like sweat and soap. He is five years older but his muscles are still taut and beautiful under Miles’ arms. He is the truest family Miles has ever known.

He is home.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to try and take a break now from writing about these assholes and try to have a life. Wish me luck.


End file.
